The Meaning Of Freedom
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: A somewhat troubled Azula longs for freedom. By turning her into a dragon, a spirit grants her wish in an unusual way.


The sun rose in hues of gold, its rays spanning like wings across the forestscape. They warmed Azula's skin pleasantly as she slumbered. She had been alone for some time now. Alone and burdened by the past, present, and future alike. Her past somehow kept her from living in the present and her future was much murkier than she anticipated. And so her slumber was burdened too, taken over by nightmares disguised as dreams. All of them involved something along the lines of her sitting on the throne, ruling her subjects. But something was off, there was always an overcast of foreboding that she could not place.

She woke up with the dream still lingering on the borders of her mind, just far back in it that she couldn't put its imagery into words.

She squinted as the sunrays flooded her vision and brought an arm up to shield them against the harsh vibrant light. She had something of a long day ahead of her, all of the daily tasks she'd blown off the day before were going to catch up to her. She had to replenish her firewood, had to go to the lake and refill her water, had to gather food be it through a good hunt or a scour for berries, and least thrillingly she had to inspect her makeshift shelter. The latter had become a regular task, neglecting it for one day left it susceptible to falling apart completely. She took a decent risk in not tending to it the day before, but she didn't have the mental capacity for it that day.

If she were being honest with herself, she still wasn't up for it.

Wasn't up for any of it.

She was exhausted in body and mind. Solitude in the forest was taking its toll. Azula longed for human contact of some kind. Even if it came from the lowliest humankind had to offer. It least it would be conversation. At least it would be interaction—a confirmation that humanity didn't disappear. Such an odd though; that it could be humanity that had disappeared and not she.

Azula stood up and stretched, trying to coax some of the tiredness out of her fatigued body. She decided that she would seek out the lake first, in her sleep, the night had left her parched. On a normal day the twenty-minute walk to the lake was untroubling, sometimes even soothing—her favorite part of the day. But with the temperature at what had to be record breaking highs and her throat being so dry, Azula knew her trek through the jungle would drag. She sighed, resigning to that it was best to just get it over with. A few times along the way a particularly low hanging branch would snag her hair or clothes, or she would misgauge its height only to find it slapping against her cheek. She knew she was being strangely clumsy and chalked it up to the beginning stages of dehydration. The last branch had her cheek stinging and when she finally thought to bring her index and middle fingers to the source, they came away with blood. Azula sighed, she would have to cleanse that at the lake while she was at it lest she find herself riddled with infection.

Through what was left of her flimsy shoes, rocks jabbed at her feet, making the walk even less pleasurable. Though not yet painful, it was mildly uncomfortable, especially coupled with a few pebbles that slipped through the cracks in her footwear. She sat down for a brief rest and wiped the sweat off of her forehead before completing her walk.

Standing at the bank of the creek, Azula found her mind wandering again as she absently stooped down to fill her flask. Not for the first time, she wished to be free of her body's needs.

Her body…it was so small and felt so delicate these days.

She took the flask to her lips and savored the feeling of cool water on her tongue. The water always did taste better after being deprived of it for longer than usual. She splashed some water on her face and then stripped down. She'd cleanse her clothing and then herself. From her small pack, Azula took out a rudimentary bar of soap. She was thankful for her lazy days in the palace, the days where she would pull random texts from different shelves and study up on them. One such piece that she read—and never anticipated having to use—was on the making of soap. She read it over and over again after her father sent her off to find her brother so long ago. At that time, it was more of a 'just in case' study. Presently, it was a lifesaver. Some time ago she had crafted herself a primitive pot and lit a fire. When it died down she had gathered the ashes. Just as she had read she poured hot water over them and watched a new substance drip into her pot. She boiled that substance, added some olive oil, and stirred. According to her studies, the lye would be at its best in about four days. This gave her time to get ahead on the next step. One that wasn't pleasant in any way, for it required fat that she had to strip from a lion-moose cub. Somehow that task was different than cooking its meat. Once the lye finally grew void of water she mixed in the moose-lion fat and hoped that it would be adequate. For her efforts she was able to keep her hygiene and wash her cut out.

Again she wished to be free of her body's needs—it wouldn't be long before her bar of soap shrunk away and she'd have to make a new one. Self-upkeep was never this hard at the palace, she frowned to herself. Of course, it wasn't, the soap was made for her and she had a bathtub. The creek was a well enough substitute, but the occasional feeling of fish scales against her belly or breasts was not welcomed. Azula patted herself down with her hand-sewn towel (though it was much more akin to a blanket) and took the down time while her clothing dried to start sewing herself a new outfit entirely. She had been at that for a few weeks now and was just beginning to see the fruits of her labor.

How much easier it would be if she didn't need clothing at all. But it was her only protection against the sunlight. She supposed that even the skin of the best firebenders would fester if left at the mercy of the sun for too long.

Azula wanted to lay down again and drift off into a nap. The desire was overbearing, even more so whit her fingers aching. But she decided to continue sewing upon noticing just how close she was to having her new dress finished. She would make a pair of pants to go with them when she found the energy. For the time being, she pulled her new dress over her head. It wasn't elegant by any means, it was actually rather plain, but it was comfortable enough. She gathered the rest of what few possessions and headed back to her campsite. Along they way she gathered up some leechy nuts and a handful of peaches. It wasn't much, but it would hold her over until she felt like hunting or fishing.

She ate a few of them as she walked, pondering upon what other tasks she had to get on top of. She remembered the firewood and scanned the ground for some thick branches as she carried on. By the time she reached her shelter, she had a fairly large heap of the sticks and twigs. She placed some of them down in her fire pit and the rest on the formerly dwindling pile of firewood.

All in all she supposed her new life wasn't so rough, not as much as before. She had a system going now, her life had some semblance of order. It wasn't ideal by any means, but sometimes she enjoyed the view of the stars or being able to truly observe the splendor of the nature around her and the subtle changes it took on day to day, that she would have otherwise missed.

She yawned and allowed herself another brief break, which she filled by eating one of the peaches, and then gave her shelter a once over. She ended up making another journey into the jungle to cut a few bamboo sticks down and pick up a few armfuls of leaves. Carefully, she replaced the cracking bamboo that made up part of the foundation of her shelter. Once that was secure, she patched the roof with the leaves.

By then night had fallen again.

It had been an ordinary day.

As she lie awake by the fire, she wished again for freedom, for something extraordinary. For something to take her away from her daily task. To loosen the bindings of her physical self and the world around her.

On the fringe of the forest, she caught a hint of golden light.

Spirit light.


End file.
